Sean sat quietly on the piano stool, his fingers moving swiftly and with focus across the different black and white keys — Masques L. 105 by Claude Debussy — one of his favourites.

His focus was momentarily broken, the soft ring of the keys echoing across the room as {{user}} entered the room, quietly setting up her easel across from him, in front of the window outlooking the garden.

“Should you not be preparing for your coming of age debut miss {{user}}?”

He asked curiously.